


birthday blues

by shuanime



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Comfort/Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 09:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuanime/pseuds/shuanime
Summary: —in which it's autumn and it's cold and jeonghan feels sad on his birthday for no reason and jisoo is his home





	birthday blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [je000nghan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/je000nghan/gifts).



> this is for my ate, my best friend in the whole world, my mother, my sister, my everything in a pretty little (when i say little i mean height-wise) package. this is for you, jo! happy birthday!
> 
> she's my pillar :) idk what i'd do without her, really. 
> 
> here's a little jihan something for you because i love you. <3
> 
> you, too, reader.
> 
> she's je000nghan on ao3 check out her works! she's the best with words!

_Cold_. Jeonghan pulls the huge padding he’s wearing tighter around his frame, as if holding it closer to his body will help him feel warmer; but it doesn’t. It’s just cold and he’s freezing his ass off along the autumn streets of Seoul when he could be sprawled across the comfort of his bed back at the dorm. Or in the warmth of his best friend’s embrace.

 

It’s no secret Jisoo has something prepared for him today (The boy sucks at trying to keep secrets. He’s an open book to Jeonghan.) Nothing fancy like Minghao and Mingyu’s elaborate parties or Seungcheol’s annual charity work. It’s just Jisoo cooking some pasta exclusively for him (the other boys are not allowed to touch the Jeonghan Birthday Pasta per Jeonghan’s house rule), preparing Jeonghan a paper bag of _inexpensive_ (Jisoo avoids calling things _cheap_ because he thinks it discredits the hard work of whoever made it) novelty items that are generally viewed as _lame_ or _dumb_ , but Jisoo thinks that cheeseburger backpack is the best thing ever created on the planet and _This snow globe has holographic glitters, Hannie! It’s amazing!_

 

So Jeonghan accepts them with his whole heart and gratitude.

 

(He thinks the real present lies in the younger’s cat-like eyes. In the way they glisten with gaiety and appreciation. In the younger’s lips. In the way they curve up to a priceless smile whenever he sees Jeonghan enjoying his presents. Little does he know, Jeonghan enjoys the sight of him more.)

 

Jeonghan knows he should be back there right now, accepting birthday greetings, taking pictures, drinking alcohol—he’s not sure what people do on birthdays… at least not anymore.

 

His _Kakaotalk_ is now crammed with _Happy Birthdays_ and texts from people who never really spared him a _Hello_ much less a glance, but somehow, now that it’s October fourth, the angel’s day, everybody knows him. He just answered calls from his mom and sister and sent an _ugly_ selfie as thanks in the group chat with the members before deciding to turn his phone off. As much as he hates to be a pessimist, it’s getting annoying. The birthdays. The celebration. The unnecessary attention people give him just because they think they must make him feel good on the day he’s commemorating his birth. There isn’t anything special with getting old. Everyone is just a kid that ages, if he thinks about it.

 

And Jeonghan feels guilty he feels this way. He feels ashamed that he has to be the negative energy that’s making him unhappy on his own day.

 

Jisoo must be worried. He should go back.

 

He crosses the street with a grimace veiled by a black face mask to protect his identity outside. He doesn’t want to go back to the dorm and be surrounded by glee. His heart tells him he wants to be somewhere quiet and warm and far from the stress of being expected to always be merry all the damn time. Any further than this would require him a bus home, but any further than this would also take him to the doorstep of his mother, his cozy sanctuary.

 

Jeonghan follows his heart, tips the white cap down to obscure his eyes, and turns around to go back to the dorm because Jisoo must be worried.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“You’re back!” 

 

Jeonghan cringes.

 

Then he _un-cringes_.

 

Instead of the sharp shrill of Soonyoung’s—or Seokmin’s or Seungkwan’s—greeting, he is welcomed by Jisoo’s soft exclaim. In front of the dormitory. Under the overwhelming, unromantic dried tree leaves and the harsh pre-winter breeze.

 

(It sounds sappy and disgusting if he says it out loud but if he only thinks Jisoo’s voice makes him warmer inside, then no one can judge.)

 

He’s dressed in that fluffy white jacket that makes him look like that snowman character on _Frozen_ , or that bunny plushie called _Cinnamoroll_. Or a marshmallow.

 

Marshmallow suits him best, he internally concludes.

 

“Why are you out wearing just that?” Jeonghan can’t help nagging. The younger is usually responsible, a boy scout if he may add—Jisoo has band-aids in his wallet, has lotion in his survival kit, has Advils in his health kit, has kits for _God-knows-wha_ t circumstances, but he never _ever_ seemed to bother wearing extra layers even when his lower lips is jutting out, quivering because of the biting cold.

 

“I-I waited.”

 

There’s a slight whine in his mellow voice. _Must be because of the cold—no shit_ , Jeonghan mulls over as he wordlessly takes his best friend’s chilly huge hand in his equally chilly average-sized ones and tugs him inside the property before they die frozen outside. He can already see the news headlines: _SEVENTEEN’s Yoon Jeonghan Dies with His Best Friend Hong Jisoo before He Could Even Confess His Undying Love for Him_. He’s not sure if headlines are written like that, but he’s sure he can’t die yet.

 

“Where’s Cheol? Why did he let you go out this late? In this weather? Wearing just that? What are you wearing under? Let me see,” Jeonghan rapidly spits out, partly because he really wants to know and partly because the warmth from the dorm heaters is crippling over his exposed (not so many) parts of skin and the goosebumps of the sudden change of temperature makes him talk fast.

 

He lifts Jisoo’s white jacket with one hand, and Jisoo pinches his thumb in a quick response to the swamp of attention he’s getting.

 

“Will you please calm down,” Jisoo scolds back. The quivering of his lips is less obvious now, but Jeonghan’s sure he’s freezing. “I’m fine.”

 

“You are _not_ fine,” he counters. “You’re pale and your hands are cold and you’re only wearing one shirt underneath!”

 

“I’m okay! I was worried about you!”

 

Of course he was. Jeonghan knows that already. It’s a sigh of relief, really. He feels like a jerk, but knowing Jisoo is worried about him makes him happy.

 

Yeah, a jerk.

 

“Out. Strolling.”

 

Jisoo cocks an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. “In this weather? Wearing just a padding?”

 

A grin creeps up Jeonghan’s face. “I’m wearing five pairs of socks and three sweaters underneath this. Plus a thermal waistband.”

 

“Grandma.”

 

“It’s Grandpa. Male.”

 

“Alright, Grandpa. But my grandma is the one wearing thermal waistbands in autumn so…”

 

Jeonghan chuckles and brings his now not freezing hand to Jisoo’s cold ear, rubbing it red until it’s warm to the touch. “You changed the subject.”

 

“I didn’t,” Jisoo says with a scrunch of his rosy nose. “ _You_ did.”

 

It’s so cute. What can Jeonghan say to that?

 

They fall into silence. Just the two of them in the entrance hall, leeching off warmth from the dorm heaters. Jeonghan keeps on kneading Jisoo’s ears to keep them warm, then he moves on to his hands next. Just massaging them, rubbing to create friction and speed up the warming process. Definitely not so he could just keep his best friend’s hands in his own. Definitely not so he could daydream about him owning these hands for himself one day.

 

“You’re lonely,” Jisoo says after a long while of Jeonghan just rubbing their hands together.

 

“No I’m not. I’ve got everyone—Cheol, you, Junnie, Soonie-“

 

The younger chuckles, knowing Jeonghan hasn’t memorized their names in filial order just yet.

 

“—you. The other guys. My mom. My dad. My little sister. You.”

 

“I’m in that list thrice,” Jisoo remarks. 

 

“You must be special.”

 

“I am.” Jisoo pulls his hands away from Jeonghan’s, and maybe his heart clenches in pain when the younger did that, but he lets go anyway. What can he do? “But today is your special day. You’re special. Just today, so don’t get greedy. Every day it’s me, but today I’ll lend you my Special Crown.”

 

Jeonghan just laughs at the silliness of the love of his life. 

 

“The boys are out today. It’s just us.”

 

Suddenly, he ’s hypersensitive to the feel of Jisoo’s breath on the crook of his neck, Jisoo’s arms coiling tight around his shoulder, Jisoo’s clean, fresh linens scent, Jisoo’s body against his thick clothing, Jisoo’s—

 

“How? W-Why?”

 

“They noticed. We all did. One peaceful night. We collectively agreed this would be our birthday present to you.”

 

His face falls just when Jisoo pulls away. _What if they feel like I don’t want to be with them anymore? They’ll think I’m a cold person. Maybe they think I hate them. Maybe—_

 

“ _Ah_ , stop thinking,” Jisoo says, flicking his forehead lightly. He rubs at the sore spot in the middle of his brows as his best friend continues his reprimanding. “They don’t hate you and they don’t think you hate them. They understand. We all get birthday blues.”

 

Birthday blues. Somehow it feels nice to finally put a label on it, to finally know what’s making him so gloomy on a day that’s supposed to be all smiles.

 

“C’mon, let’s go upstairs. I prepared you a pink drink,” Jisoo says, eyes gleaming with excitement as he grasps Jeonghan’s hand again, drawing him to the direction of upstairs with him.

 

Jeonghan brushed the younger’s long bangs away from his eyes, parting them in the middle to give him a better view of his face. “There better not be a surprise party. I hate surprise parties.”

 

Jisoo just shakes his head, bangs falling back over his crinkling sunny eyes in the middle of fall. “I know.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

It turns out the pink drink the younger was talking about was pink lemonade. Just pink lemonade. He prepared Jeonghan a pitcher of pink lemonade in autumn. On his birthday.

 

That is so random. So Jisoo.

 

“What are we doing tonight, Mr. Special,” Jeonghan asks with a tone he has heard Seungkwan use in variety shows. Jisoo throws a pillow in his direction, and it hits his hand that’s holding the glass of his pink drink, almost toppling the glass over, so he glares at him, but Jisoo is too busy scouring the dorm room for whatever he’s trying to find to notice.

 

He settles the glass on the center table in case Jisoo gets any more ideas, settles himself on the couch, too, because why not.

 

“We’re gonna make you the Mr. Special of the night,” he says distractedly.

 

“And how are we going to achieve that? Hm?”

 

Jisoo unceremoniously sits on the couch next to him, defeatedly looking around, but Jeonghan couldn’t care less about what the younger is so dejected about. 

 

Jisoo is too close next to him. Half-sitting-on-his-lap kind of too close.

 

“I’m gonna cast a spell on you,” the younger giggles. “A spell to do away with your blues.”

 

Jeonghan just tilts his head slightly, wondering what he’s trying to pull. Jisoo’s warmth against him is nice. It’s nothing new to them—the close proximity the share just like this—but Jeonghan finds his heart pounding loudly in his chest whenever they do.

 

(He hopes—could only hope his best friend’s heart does the same thing, too.)

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

The birthday celebrator just squints his eyes suspiciously at the other, and Jisoo laughs. “C’mon, Hannie, just do it.”

 

Jeonghan, albeit nervous of what closing his eyes entails, obliges anyways. He shuts his lids, now fragile to every little movement the younger makes. He’s wary of a lot of things, some of those are opening his eyes to a surprise party or to a dark and lonely room all by himself…

 

_Or to the sight of Jisoo wearing lacy lingerie-_

 

Well, that’s not right. He wasn’t thinking about Jisoo in lacy panties—not at all—no. He’s scared to be left alone is all. That’s all. Nothing to see here. Phew.

 

It’s been too long. He has his eyes shut for a second longer than expected. Without another word, he flutters them open but before he really could…

 

Soft.

 

_Soft_. _Soft_. _Soft_.

 

Lips are on his, moving in a jumble. Like the kisser isn’t experienced. Since Jisoo is the kisser, it’s probably right that he isn’t as… smooth.

 

_Fuck, Jisoo is kissing me_ , is what Jeonghan thinks topmost, and before he could do anything, before he could finally kiss back and make that sloppy slotting of lips better, Jisoo pulls back.

 

His eyes are watery, like any second the dam will break and a deluge of tears will drown the lands and summon Noah and his ship. He averts his eyes from the older and sniffs, “I knew it.”

 

“ _Knew_ _what_ _what_?” 

 

It’s clear that Jeonghan hasn’t recovered from the kiss yet. He was just there! Sitting with his eyes closed! Dreaming about lingerie and loneliness! Things are moving all too fast before his sad brain could comprehend.

 

“I knew you wouldn’t like it, but I pushed it unto you anyway,” Jisoo’s tears are falling now, one by one. Jeonghan thinks he should be the one crying. “I’m sorry.”

 

The love of his life kissed him. He kissed him first. Jeonghan will offer all his birthday cakes to the gods.

 

“Wait, Jisoo—No!” He pulls at Jisoo’s hand when the younger starts to leave, making his thin frame topple over him again in that half-sitting on his lap position. “No, stay. Stay here and listen to me.”

 

“I knew it, Hannie. I shouldn’t have! I’m so sorry.”

 

“Don’t jump into conclusions!”

 

“What conclusions! You obviously hated it! You did this face!” Jisoo pulls a face that’s half frowning, half constipated-looking, and Jeonghan is now a hundred percent sure his best friend (soon to be boyfriend, dear gods, help him) is exaggerating to gain the upper hand again.

 

“I did not,” Jeonghan huffs, “I was gonna kiss you back but you pulled away! What’s up with that?”

 

“You opened your eyes!”

 

“Because you were taking too long!”

 

“Don’t scream at me!”

 

“You screamed at me first! On my birthday, too!”

 

“I’m sorry, okay!?”

 

“Okay!”

 

And silence prevails. Jisoo leans his head back, nape resting on Jeonghan’s shoulder comfortably, and keeps his eyes trained to the ceiling.He lets out a sigh, “I’m sorry. I was so sure you like me back.”

 

Jeonghan’s eyes resemble saucers now, aimed at Jisoo’s cheek. He did not imagine it to be like this. “What do you mean? And can you stop drawing a line at everything?”

 

“It’s true,” Jisoo sighs again and Jeonghan wants to capture that mouth in his so he could stop sighing. “I forced things on you. I should’ve asked first. I’m _so_ dumb.”

 

“If you want the _truth_ ,” Jeonghan offers, even with the brewing irritation at the boy. “I’ve been in love with you since forever.”

 

“That’s the truth? The truth is _I_ have been in love with you since forever.”

 

“I mean, I guess. I thought you didn’t like me back because you’re unresponsive to my advances.”

 

“I was responsive! I’m very responsive! I’m the most responsive person to you!”

 

“That’s Seokmin. You’re a piece of log most of the time.”

 

Jisoo pouts at the ceiling awfully. _Awfully cute_ , a voice in Jeonghan’s head says, but he brushes it away because he’s concentrating on pretending to be annoyed. “I let you lean your head on my shoulder during broadcasts. And hit my bottom in front of our fans. And poke my head. And I let you pull me everywhere by the waist. I also let you tease me on cam. I let you-“

 

“You indulge me, Shua. It’s different from responding,” he reasons.

 

“No, it’s the same. I don’t let anyone do that to me.”

 

It’s Jeonghan’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “How about when Cheol does those and you let him?”

 

“Well, he’s the leader and my other bestie next to yo-“

 

“Or Minghao?”

 

“He’s my dongsae-“

 

“Or Soonyoung?”

 

“Soonie is naturally touchy-“

 

“See! That’s my point. You’re like this with everyone,” Jeonghan says, feeling the exhaustion sink in his bones. “I wish you showed me I’m Mr. Special in an actually special way.”

 

The words are out of his mouth before he could stop them. He doesn’t mean those. 

 

“But I kissed you,” Jisoo says, soft but determined and not in the very least offended by how Jeonghan briefly snapped at him. “I kissed you and I never did that with anyone. Just you.”

 

It’s absurd, really. How their first confession turned into a childish fight of who does it better, of who responds better. He brushes the long bangs away from the younger’s eyes again, and maybe it’s a habit he’s been doing since Jisoo thought of growing his hair longer on the front.

 

“I didn’t mean that. You make me feel special everyday. In different ways you don’t do with the others.”

 

“Mm?” Jisoo pretends to ponder. “Like what?”

 

“Look at this brat fishing for compliments already,” Jeonghan sighs, leaning his head on the couch, but appeasing him anyway. “Like when you offer toshampoo only my hair after schedules, or when you ask me if I’ve eaten anything and prepare me pasta—your only dish-“ Jeonghan stops enumerating when the younger whines a small _Hey I can cook toast, too!_

 

“Or when you only call for me when you left your towel outside the bathroom. Or when you buy me weird stuff from that quirky stall and call them birthday presents. Now that I think about it, where _are_ my birthday presents?”

 

“They’re not weird,” Jisoo defends, but the faint pinkish glow on his cheeks suggests that he might feel a little self-conscious about his presents. “I didn’t get you any because I didn’t have much time and…”

 

“And?”

 

“And I really thought you would like the k-kiss,” Jisoo stammers, clearly trying to fight off a blush as he keep his eyes fixed on the ceiling like it’s the most interesting piece of art.

 

“Yeah, about that—Joshuji?”

 

“Yes, Hannie?”

 

“Can I kiss you again?”

 

“…”

 

“It’s my birthday.”

 

This time, Jisoo climbs on his lap, sits on it and claims it as if it’s free real estate. Jeonghan holds onto him by the waist lest he should fall, and he feels the fucking butterflies in his tummy become dragons.

 

“It doesn’t have to be. You can kiss me anytime. Lots.”

 

Soft.

 

_Soft. Soft. Soft._

 

Jeonghan feels the soft lips against him. This time he’s in control. It’s not sloppy, not messy, not an unnatural lip-lock.

 

It’s sweet and soft and chaste and warm.

 

It’s a happy birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a present to one of the most important persons in my life, but if you enjoyed it... i really hope you did.
> 
> thank you for reading!!!
> 
>  
> 
> twitter & curiouscat: @shuanime


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